


Desperate

by RebelRebel



Series: I Walk the Line [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 14:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15172592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelRebel/pseuds/RebelRebel
Summary: When the Bond opened, Rey didn't move."We need to talk."





	Desperate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avidvampirehunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidvampirehunter/gifts).



> A birthday drabble for avidvampirehunter. 
> 
> Happy birthday, girl! This is for you, fam. It's not much, but I hope you like it!

 

When the Bond opened, Rey didn't move. 

"We need to talk."

Rey flinched at the sound of his voice, but said nothing.

"Rey."

She stood very, very still, arms crossed over her chest, her back to him. Thankfully, he'd appeared while she was alone in her room — otherwise, someone might've asked her why she was holding her breath.

"Are you going to talk to me?"

Her fingers twitched, but still, she didn't speak. She could feel him drawing closer; his presence looming over her shoulder, making the delicate hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"So, that's a no."

He was right behind her. She could feel him: a second pulse, a second heartbeat, a second, dizzying sequence of thoughts, all circling around her. If she wasn't focusing so hard on ignoring him, she would've marveled at how much he left open to her. 

_Everything_.

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

His words were quiet. And broken.

They broke her, too.

Rey choked out a small, wet sob. 

"Me either," she whispered.

Lightly, he placed his hands on her shaking shoulders. The touch made her head spin with relief, and they both sucked in deep, calming breaths, reveling in the contact. The touch helped quell their combined need, just a little. Rey could feel it; the hum of the Force, as his fingers stilled her.

But it wasn't enough. Not even close.

"I can't look at you," she admitted, "Not after — "

"Then don't," he cut her off, some of Kylo Ren coming back to his voice. But his hands belonged to Ben; his ungloved fingers rubbing circles into her back, the lips at her neck —

Rey gasped. She hadn't expected that, for him to...

He mouthed at the sensitive skin, hot and insistent and grazing her with his teeth, and she moaned, knees actually trembling. This was so much more; this was  _right_. Why else would the Force sing when they touched?

"Rey," he murmured. His voice was on her skin, in her ear; heavy and so hot that she burned at the sound.

She groaned, her head lolling back against his broad chest, granting him better access, and his hands left her shoulders to grip her hips instead, pulling her flush against him. The shock of his hardness pressing against her backside only made the space between her thighs wet, and she shut her eyes, breathing him in. She could actually  _smell_  him through the Bond — a rousing mixture of salt, sweat, and soap.

At her movement, he wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her backward. His knees must've hit the back of his own bed, because he moved to sit, pulling her on top of his lap, her legs spread on either side of him.

She could feel more of him, now; huge and hard underneath her as she writhed atop him, pressing herself against him in search of some friction, any relief, and she knew she shouldn't do this, she shouldn't want this, but she had to, she wanted to, she  _needed to._

It was his turn to groan, and the sound made her even wetter. 

"Tell me you need me," he gasped, full lips still pressing insistently against her pulse. 

She wanted to. She wanted to tell him that.

Even in her near-delirious state, she knew it was true.

“I don’t want you — "

Before she could finish, he was gone; a ghost in her mind, tearing at the galaxy between them, and she was in a huddle on the floor, breathing roughly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

" — to stop.”

Her words were another soft sob, and the absence of his touch was a blazing fire in her belly she couldn't ignore anymore.

She could still feel him through the Bond — a faint echo in the Force, trying to make it submit to his whims; to claw his way back to her. 

_Desperate._

For touch, for penance. She didn't know. Maybe if she'd looked at him, she would.

 


End file.
